Authors note: This has been a work in progress for over two years, I've poked at it several times but could not find an ending. Finally, I got there. I hope you enjoy it.

They are all in it, the whump is for Aramis and Porthos. I'll post one or two chapters a day as they are quite short.

Chapter One

They were all keen to get back to Paris. Back to the garrison. Back to their normal duties. The dull diplomatic duties they had just finished were, d'Artagnan had to admit, a bit beyond his understanding. They had escorted the diplomat to the border with Germany and seen him safely to his destination. Now they were nearly home.

It was warm, if they were not on duty d'Artagnan doubted they would still have their doublets on. He knew there was a river with a shallow open area on their route back to Paris. He wondered if he suggested they stop there if the others would agree?

He glanced across at Athos who, as usual, was unreadable, he seemed to be thinking deeply. Although d'Artagnan knew the Musketeer would be fully alert to all that was going on around him. Aramis and Porthos were behind them teasing each other. D'Artagnan had caught odd snatches of the conversation between the two but had quickly decided he did not want to be drawn into their discussion about which of the other men in the garrison were better at different disciplines. The discussion involved a lot of giggling and hushed words between the two.

The road they were on was bordered by trees on either side. The woodland was thick, darkness enveloped the area within a few yards. Fortunately, the road was wide giving them light and space. They could easily ride four abreast on the road if they chose to.

The sweeping bend in the road meant they could not see further than a couple of hundred yards at that moment. D'Artagnan noticed a change in Athos who, if anything, seemed even more alert.

As if some unseen message had been passed between Athos and the two behind him, a hush descended on them all.

A gunshot followed by a cry of pain had all four reacting. Their horses pushed into a gallop they surged forward.

D'Artagnan took in the scene before them. Five men were on the road, a small hand cart loaded with goods the object of the men's attention. Three horses stood a few yards further on. One of the men was lying on the road, his hands pressed against a gunshot wound to his stomach. The man's blood pumping between his fingers and pooling beneath him. The four men, one, his gun still smoking, looked up in shock at the approaching soldiers.

Two of the men ran, jumping on their horses. The third horse, startled by the sudden activity trotted away, following its equine brothers.

Athos glanced towards d'Artagnan who nodded, digging his spurs in at the same time, urging his horse on, after the escaping robbers.

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Aramis shouted at the robbers and pushed his horse faster, closing the gap between them in a few seconds. Porthos followed. Athos and d'Artagnan peeled away slightly, ready to skirt around the two remaining men and the victim. No order was needed. Athos and d'Artagnan were going to try to apprehend the two escaping men, while Aramis and Porthos were to deal with the abandoned pair of robbers and the no doubt dying man.

As the two Musketeers slowed their approach, the robbers turned their attention from the escaping men to the new threat. Neither Porthos nor Aramis wanted to shoot the men if they could help it, taking them alive was the preferable option.

Athos and d'Artagnan disappeared from sight further around the curve of the road.

Porthos swung his leg over the horse's head and dismounted drawing his sword as he did so. He closed the gap between him and the robbers, he was confronted by the shorter robber who had also drawn his sword.

Porthos managed a quick glance across and saw that Aramis was taking on the robber with the gun. The man had hesitated long enough for Aramis to knock the gun out of the man's hand, forcing him to draw his own sword.

Porthos' foe was not as tall as him and was quite wiry, but he was light on his feet. He managed to duck and twist away from Porthos' lunges and thrusts. Their fight drawing them closer to the cart, a quick movement from the robber forced Porthos to take a defensive step back. He knocked into one of the handles of the cart. Taking a step to the left he managed to find some space. The robber took advantage of Porthos' very brief distraction and sliced into his left arm, followed by another quick movement forward forcing Porthos back a couple of steps.

The injury to his arm stung, he had no idea how serious it was. It was not bad enough to affect his fighting, but he knew it would need seeing to.

The attacker was good with a sword, Porthos knew his limits, this man would rival Athos in swordsmanship. He got the impression that he would have to remain on the defensive until Aramis had despatched the other robber and could join him. He hoped that Aramis would be able to better the other man.

The wiry man had managed to get Porthos to take a small step to the right, where he found himself again knocking into the cart. Only this time as he adjusted his position the robber grabbed the handle closest to him and tip the cart over toward Porthos.

As the cart tipped Porthos tried to move out of the way but had been expertly manoeuvred into a position too close. He stumbled, falling with the cart and found himself pinned underneath, his sword falling from his hand as he did so. He knew he was not hurt, bruised no doubt, but nothing was broken. He was, however, trapped. He tried to reach his gun, which had become pinned with him, he knew he would not get to it before the robber was on him.

The robber had other ideas, satisfied that Porthos was not going anywhere for a few minutes, he turned his attention to Aramis and the other robber, who were fighting a few feet away.

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The two men who had mounted up and left their fellow thieves were clearly keen to get away. They had pushed the horses into a gallop, but the beasts were not pleased with their treatment. The horse without a rider had slowed and was cantering as Athos passed it. One of the thieves had not managed to get his left foot in the stirrup and was struggling to keep his balance. Athos knew the chase would not be a long one.

Sure enough, the unbalanced robber was forced to stop, his horse refusing to go any further. Athos slowed his own horse, pulling his gun as he did so. The robber was spending too much time trying to get his foot into his stirrup and had not noticed Athos' approach.

Thinking he was about to make the easiest catch in his career Athos was about to speak when the robber's horse unexpectedly reared up. The robber was thrown unceremoniously from the beast. Athos was impressed when the man managed to twist mid-fall and land on his feet, before taking a couple of stumbled steps to fall to his hands and knees.

The rearing horse had upset Athos' own which stepped to the side, away from the agitated beast. He dismounted, finally able to aim his gun as he did so.

A clash of swords to his right caught his attention. D'Artagnan and the other robber had dismounted and were engaged in what looked like a fierce battle. Athos was confident his friend would have no problems dealing with the angry-looking robber.

He turned back to the first man, who had managed to find his feet.

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Aramis was off his horse and engaging the gunman quickly, the man had paused staring at the approaching musketeer, fear in his eyes. Aramis had easily knocked the gun aside and initially pushed the man back against the cart, thinking he could subdue the robber quickly.

The robber managed to kick Aramis in the shin causing the Musketeer to take a couple of steps back. The robber took the moment's reprieve to draw his sword. The man was a fierce fighter, he was not very disciplined but was enthusiastic with his lunges. Aramis could parry each sword thrust with ease.

Porthos did not seem to be faring as well with his opponent, he had been forced back towards the cart and the other robber was pressing his advantage.

Aramis knew he had to deal with his opponent quickly, he forced the man back with a couple of sword strokes. The other robber had now tipped the cart over, onto Porthos. Aramis could not tell if Porthos was injured.

Seeing the man who had been fighting Porthos advancing, he parried the first man's thrust and took the chance to bodily shove the new opponent back towards the cart. Aramis was pleased to see the man hit the fallen cart hard and turn himself around to catch his breath. With only one opponent again, Aramis renewed his effort to despatch the man.

Clearly distracted by the other robber coming to join him the untrained man dropped his guard long enough for Aramis to thrust his sword into the man's chest, close enough to his heart to prove instantly fatal.

As Aramis pulled the sword from the man's limp body, he noticed the other robber advancing on him. Aramis raised his sword ready for a second fight. The other man did not raise his sword, instead, he swung a bag at him, releasing its contents of flour as he did so.

Everything went white. The powder enveloping the area. Aramis had the misfortune to take a breath at the exact moment the flour was thrown. He could not help coughing as the substance entered his lungs. He was struggling to see, the dusty powder everywhere. He clutched at his chest involuntarily as he continued to cough, trying to get fresh air into his lungs.

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